


Under the Storm

by Winter Hat (Fedora)



Series: Monster Babies [6]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Children, Awkward Flirting, Blackmail, Gen, M/M, Meet-Cute, With Monsters, child avatars of eldritch fear gods, creepy children, implied nasty rich men, misuse of special powers, petulant teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22286986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fedora/pseuds/Winter%20Hat
Summary: After one of Leitner's "fund raisers" for the Institute, Elias and Jon meet someone who avoided getting caught up in everything.  The Lonely Eyes meet cute.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard & Jonathan Sims, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Series: Monster Babies [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1473905
Comments: 23
Kudos: 230





	Under the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> There's a bit of a time jump here from the last story. Elias is abou 17 and Jon is about 6 now. There are a couple people mentioned who will have their own introductory stories (which are being edited!), but this is the one that came through first.
> 
> I'll be sure to edit the series chronology so that the stories are in the right order in internal timeline, and not order posted timeline. :) 
> 
> Also, the title is from Octopus's Garden by the Beatles. Which is for some reason a Peter song for me.

The ceiling was made of wood panels stained different shades of brown and arranged in slow growing box patterns. It was slightly less offensively pretentious then the rest of the room with its dark walnut and red velvet, so Elias rested his head on the back of the love seat and stared at it.

Jon shifted restlessly at his side, one minute pressing his face and knees into the back of the loveseat, the next laying on his back, head in Elias’s lap, feet hanging over the armrest. His eyes would droop then snap open as the late hour warred with the sugar-rush-like high of having had his fill of answered questions. Jon gave an exaggerated sigh.

“Do you want more of your hot chocolate?” Elias asked, while in the next room, a lanky blond with a great arse was rummaging through the liquor cabinet. 

“No,” Jon whined, drawing out the O, and changed position again. “When can we go home?”

“Soon.” Neither of them believed it.

“Oh!” The blond from the other room strolled into view in an overly casual manner, a tumbler of neat whiskey in his left hand. “I didn’t realize anyone was here. Mind if I join you?”

Elias was wary; he and Jon would be hard to miss from the door. Elias didn’t trust that Leitner would be able to find them once he was done gloating. But his brother’s attention, dulled by the late hour and mundane secretes, was focused on the newcomer. There was a chance that a distraction would help Jon calm enough to sleep.

“Of course.” 

The man, teenager really, barely older than Elias, walked into the room with a loose limbed swager, like he’d already had more to drink than the glass in his hand, but there was a tightness his eyes that said otherwise. Elias always noticed pretty eyes, and he’d been Watching the adjacent rooms since he and Jon had settled in to wait.

“I just had to get away from the family for a bit. You know how stifling expectations can be.”

Elias nodded and raised his mug of hot chocolate in a toast. He hadn’t spent more than a weekend in the same house with his parents in years, but their expectations still hounded him. He had to be “good enough” that they didn’t think Leitner had failed to reform him, but not so good that they called him back, away from this brother. They were just well connected enough that they could cause a scandal that would make things difficult, but not impossible, for Leitner to continue his work. And just boring enough that his usual method of dealing with adversity didn’t apply. Stifling was a mild way of describing the claustrophobic emptiness of his relationship with his parents. 

The other teen watched him take a drink, like he was waiting for further explanation. He would be waiting for a while; this wasn’t something Elias was going to share with just anyone. Particularly in front of his Archivist, who was still young enough to feel bad about it.

“Who are you?” 

Jon occasionally had wonderful timing.

“Peter Lukas.” There was more to it than that. Elias could almost see the panicked thoughts running through Peter’s head; this wasn’t going the way Peter had planned. Jon leaned forward in interest, and Elias put his hand on Jon’s shoulder to steady him.

“Why are you here?”

Peter hesitated, and wasn’t  **that** interesting. “I’m here because of family expectations.”

Only Simon Fairchild and Jurgen Leitner had been able to redirect or even ignore Jon’s questions. Simon Fairchild was… Grandpa Simon, and Jon was slightly frightened of Leitner. As any child would be with such an unpredictable guardian; it was perfectly understandable. But Peter Lukas held back.

Elias couldn’t pull any additional information forth, that wasn’t his skill set. But he could tell where more information should be and direct his Archivist’s attention to the missing pieces.

“What do you want with us?”

“An offering for my Patron,” Peter’s attempt at nonchalance would have been transparent even to someone not of the Eye. “You know how it is.”

“Who is your Patron?”

“The Forsaken.”

The Archivist’s gaze turned inward as ageless knowledge warred with childish understanding. Peter took a very controlled sip of his whiskey.

Eventually Jon’s attention focused up on Elias, and Elias answered the unspoken question. “He means the Lonely.”

Peter scowled, and Elias inclined his head to concede the point. It was a bit reductive to equate forsaken and lonely, but Elias was pretty sure the only one of Leitner’s captives who would be able to grasp the magnitude of the Forsaken was the one already claimed by it. Jon may be the Archivist but all the knowledge in the universe did not make complex emotional issues any easier for a child to understand.

“You are a terrible brother for Martin,” Jon declared and reached over Elias for the rest of his hot chocolate.

“What?” Peter must not have any younger siblings if he was having trouble reacting to Jon’s abrupt change in mood.

“You didn’t ask about him. You don’t have any caramels in your pocket for when it's boring. And your trick only works with one person. How are you supposed to take Martin with?” Jon tipped his head back to finish the drink as punctuation.

Elias took the empty mug to set back on the end table. Then he frowned and poked Jon in the middle of the forehead. 

Jon looked back at him with wide eyed confusion.

Elias sighed. This was not something that could be explained quickly or easily.

“Sorry,” Jon huffed, and turned to Peter. “You could tell me a story.”

Jon lay down with his knees tucked to his chest and head in Elias’s lap. Elias poked his brother’s shoulder.

“You could tell me a story,  _ please _ .”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt. I don’t have anything more pressing.” The next sip of whiskey seemed more for effect than anything else. “Once upon a time…”

“No!” Jon sat up again, glaring fiercely. “It should be an Interesting story. A Good one.”

Elias pulled his brother so that he was once again lying down. “I apologise for Jon. It’s several hours past his bedtime and the… snacks at the party were not conducive to calm behavior.”

Jon curled in on himself facing the back of the loveseat in mortification and mumbled another apology into his knees. Peter glanced at Jon, but turned his focus to Elias.

“I understand completely. My cousin Ethan can be downright unruly without enough sleep. And his father told me that nothing he says after a party can be taken seriously. It seems a sensible position to take.”

“If you can’t take conversation seriously, then what do you do after a party?”

Peter smiled at him, wide and far too bright for one of the Forsaken's. “You share a drink.”

He leaned over so they were face to face and poured a generous portion of his whiskey into Elias’s mug. Elias broke eye contact to swirl the alcohol into the rest of his luke warm drink. It was probably some kind of sacrilege to mix the kind of whiskey this club stocked with the powdered hot chocolate he'd found in the kitchen. But he didn’t care and smirked to show Peter that he didn’t care. 

“And what does sharing a drink entail?”

Peter leaned forward again; he could almost smell the whiskey on Peter's breath. If Elias also shifted forward they would be in each other’s space, breathing each other’s air. 

“Why are you being gross?” 

Jon had evidently finished sulking and was now sitting up watching them. A little closer and he would be able to come between them physically as well as metaphorically. It was far too late for Elias to be dealing with this.

Thankfully, Peter laughed. “You’ll understand when you’re older, Archivist.”

Jon lay back down and frowned up at Elias. “Is this like tying shoes?”

“More or less,” he said and took a fortifying sip. The whiskey cut the sweetness of the chocolate nicely, and he took a longer drink.

Jon reached up for the mug, “No. You finished yours.”

“Why don’t I tell you of my first transAtlantic voyage?”

“Yes, please!” Jon moved again, and Elias held his mug up so it wouldn’t accidentally spill.

Peter had a storyteller’s flair, even without the underlying power of the Archivist to draw events into a logical narrative. He dropped his voice in a slow drawl for his Uncle the Captain Lukas, which sounded much closer to how Elias had imagined an adult follower of the Forsaken would sound than Peter himself did. Elias even felt the chill of the sea fog as Peter reached the climax of his story, though that may have also been Peter bringing his power into play for effect.

“Is he asleep?”

Elias looked at his brother. He was laying on his stomach, feet on the armrest, and one arm over the side hanging towards the floor. His breath was even, with his eyes open but unfocused.

“Yes, he sleeps with his eyes open.”

“That’s a bit creepy, isn’t it?”

“And?” Elias finished his drink. He should have had more to eat earlier when he had the chance to raid the catering leftovers, but the attendees to Leitner’s fundraisers always turned his stomach, and Jon was never focused on food when they were done. The whiskey left him feeling loose limbed, and with Jon finally asleep, he allowed himself to relax. He should probably think of Peter as a threat, but his presence had been a… pleasant addition to the evening.

“And nothing I suppose,” Peter contemplated the last of his whiskey and finished his drink as well. “Just not quite what I was expecting. He’s smaller than I thought.”

“He’s only six.”

“That too.” He fidgeted with his empty glass. “What are the two of you doing here? There must be more convenient places to look for a bedtime snack.”

Elias looked down at Jon; he wished he still had his drink to distract himself. “We are current ‘students’ at the Leitner Institute.” Elias couldn’t keep the sneer out of his voice; it was hard enough when he had to deal with Leitner directly. “Since the criteria for enrollment is so specialized usual funding sources aren’t sufficient.”

Peter nodded in understanding. Both of the euphemism and Elias’s need for distance.

“Leitner has Jon ask his donors their worst secrets and takes donations to keep things between them. Jon doesn’t understand half of what they say.” Jon accepted that for most things it would be like how to tie his shoes made more sense when he was older and had more personal experience. But Elias understood, and he hated having those men anywhere near his brother.

“I can’t decide if that’s brilliant or diabolical.”

“We wouldn’t have any peace if our donors weren’t afraid of what Leitner’s other captives can do.”’

“Like?”

“Like trap them in an endless loop of their worst memories,” He smiled; it wasn’t pleasant. Even Leitner, who treated them like harmless curiosities, had been nervous around him afterwards. At least they had allowed Jon to stay near him until Jon felt safe again.

“Amazing,” Peter held his gaze for a moment before blinking and looking away with a slight blush. “I would have made sure they were never seen again. But I think the screams must have been satisfying in that situation.”

The whiskey was what caused Elias to blush at that. It must have been a delayed reaction. 

“There you are!” Leitner stood in the doorway fuming. “The car is waiting.”

He should have been able to see Peter from the door, but Leitner turned and stalked off without another word. Peter glared at Leitner’s back but turned to Elias with a smile. “May I walk the both of you to your car?”

“I would be delighted.”

Jon didn’t really wake up, but he allowed Elias to push him forward and be directed towards the exit. Peter walked silently alongside Elias and made sure there were no obstacles in their path. 

As they were leaving the club Peter put his hand on Elias’s waist. “Perhaps we’ll talk again.”

Elias put his hand over Peter’s. “Look for Elias Bouchard. I’ll be watching for you.”

He climbed into the car behind Jon, as Leitner directed the driver to go and stared out the window, already planning on what to do with his blackmail funds. As soon as Elias was settled Jon tucked himself under his brother’s arm and fell deeper into sleep.

Epilogue

Peter paced around his room in the club. That had been stupid. He had been stupid. A young child and his older brother alone in one of the studies while an after hours party went on in the smoking room had looked too good to be true, and it had been. It really had been.

He hadn’t been able to send either of them to the Lonely. He had instead been Seen and interrogated by an Archivist who thought tying his shoelaces was the height of confusion. If the family found out Uncle Nathaniel might not let him Captain one of the shipping vessels. Or worse they might ask him if he was feeling alright. Things were so much easier at sea.

Things were also much easier in the Lonely. But he couldn’t retreat just yet; he didn’t get any phone signal in the empty expanse, and Elias might find the paper he’d left with his number. Or the suggestion of his number. He’d left a paper with space for his phone number in Elias’s jacket pocket; if the Archivist was all they said he was, or Elias as determined as he appeared, Peter should be getting a call tonight.

Or he might not. It was late and the Archivist had not been awake when Peter had seen them off. And non-supernatural means of discovering phone numbers would not be available this late at night, he was sure. And Elias might not want to call him at all. One enjoyable conversation did not mean someone wanted another one.

Peter collapsed on his bed to stare at the ceiling. Of course Elias wasn't going to call. He was getting himself upset over nothing. And it was all fine. He'd spend some time in the Lonely, and find a new victim in the morning. 

_ Octopus's Garden _ started playing from the vanity. He'd chosen the song for a ringtone because he liked it, it was ridiculous, and no one would ever hear it. And now his phone was ringing. 

"Hello?"

"Hello Peter. You'll owe Jon another story when we see each other again. He was not pleased to be woken up for a phone number."

Peter smiled. Next time didn't sound too bad. "Well, I couldn't make things easy on you, now could I? "


End file.
